Being Clark Kent: The Son Becomes the Father
by Van-El II
Summary: When the Superman discovers that his renewed connection to Earth runs impossibly deeper than ever suspected, he seeks answers in the Fortress from his dead father. Unfortunately those answers may prove as elusive as the ghosts of Krypton themselves.


_**The Son Becomes the Father**_

_Disclaimer (Lengthy):_  
"Superman" and his related characters and settings were originally created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, and is published and licensed by DC Comics which is a Warner Bros. entertainment company. Richard and Jason White were created by Bryan Singer in conjunction with Michael Dougherty and Dan Harris for the new "**Superman Returns**" film (2006), a Warner Bros/Legendary Pictures Production.

This story is both inspired by the novels by Eliot S! Maggin and takes place in the "**Being Jason White**"/"**In the Shadow of My Father**" time-line and Alternate-MovieVerse created by **Alphie**, whose work is also available here on If not for her plot-bunnies, I would not have these ones, so I feel honoured to have her blessing writing this.

This work is not intended for commercial use, and no permission is granted for reproduction of the text of this fiction on any other website without the express permission of the author. This is a fan work made by fans, for fans for entertainment reward only, and no money was made through the production and distribution of this work. Immediate removal of this work will occur upon presentation of a reasonable and legal request from the above named parties and their representatives, or the action of a DMCA notice.

_Disclaimer (Short):_  
I don't own any of the characters or places, I merely have them on unauthorized loan - but I promise to return them if and when anyone from the above list (or one of their legal representatives) asks me to.

_Warnings:_ None_  
Spoilers:_** Superman Returns, Breaking the Routine, In the Shadow of My Father, Being Jason White**_  
Characters:_ Kal-El/Clark Kent, Jason White, Jor-El, Lara Lor-Van_  
Pairings:_ None_  
Word Count:_ 4096  
_Initial Publication Date:_ May 18, 2007

**

* * *

Resonance.**

With tundra stretching out for miles; snow dunes, outcrops of frozen water and perilous gaps where one might fall into the freezing ocean; one would think it inconceivable that anything would decide to make the Arctic ice-sea its home. And that's true, this vast barren place with white as far as the eye could see did not support much life, save for the hardiest of creatures such as the polar bear that plodded along under the aurora of the twilight sky. If the noble creature was disturbed by the flying blur of blue and red soaring high above it, it did not let this show. If anything, it recognised what was another neighbour it had come to get used to over the course of time. As if nodding to itself after waving off a passing acquaintance, the animal continued to search for a fresh hole in the ice-flow from which to catch fish.

The primary clad figure altered his descent towards a glittering structure that appeared to climb out of the very snowy wastes itself. It seemed as though it were embedded within the crevasse, constructed from enormous, uniform pillars of glass and quartz protruding, each at the same acute angle from the ground. Hints of sparkles reflected from the starry sky, a touch of colour mirrored from the myriad of prismatic glows from the ozone above.

To any other person on this Earth, the sight would be fantastic to behold. An eighth, new modern world wonder on the face of the planet. To Kal-El, Superman, it had a greater and infinitely more important significance: it was the very final gift conferred to him in spite of cataclysm. He had learnt who he was and of his destiny here. He received a far more extensive education than he ever could have at any school or college in the galaxy under the tutelage of both of his birth parents, this place housing all the remaining knowledge of Krypton and the dozens of other worlds in the known universe which teemed with sentient life. He had come to call this a temporary respite while on his journeys across the globe, as he discovered himself and his vocations, both as a journalist and as the hero both sets of his parents would be proud of. He had shown this place to the woman he had hoped would be his wife and they had spent two wonderful days and one night in this place.

There were equally important and difficult milestones here too. He first came to this sacred place shortly after his eighteenth birthday and the death of his foster father, Jonathan. Some years later, he had had a bitter argument with the recorded simulation of Jor-El, his birth father. That argument had spilled over from a discussion about how it could be possible to live with and love a human woman. He had given up that same wonderful and craved for relationship for the sake of the people he was a beacon of hope to; the Kandorian hieroglyphic iconograph meaning "hope," after all, was the symbol adopted by the House of El. He had left his adopted home here in the hopes of finding his people and his place in the universe, only to discover nothing but lethal Kryptonite radiation whilst bathed in the red sunlight of Eldi-Rao, a silent graveyard in the void of space. When he finally returned here after his odyssey, he had discovered the crystals that contained the last recordings of his father and mother stolen by the only man he had hitherto felt he could bring himself to hate.

As he drifted down to the console, Kal-El drank in the sight of his spiritual home on Earth. With its ornate – some opaque and some colourless – crystal buttresses and walls the Fortress resembled in part the very spires of Kandor and Kryptonopolis. The cities of his birth and his flight. In a way it was ironic then, that the word "Krypton" roughly translated to "Glacier." That's exactly what the place would feel like: cold, desolate and as immovable as the Arctic itself. Thinking back to the last time Kal-El had come here to seek guidance and answers from his long dead father, such a description seemed appropriate.

He had finally retrieved the last of the remaining sunstone crystals he safely could after several long months of searching. They had been drifting with the great, floating mass of mineral that had been dubbed "New Krypton" by the press. Despite his flight, near-invulnerability and being able to hold his breath for approximately twelve hours, it had been a treacherous labour. The crystals had been floating perilously close to the radioactive kryptonite, and parts of the coasting debris had broken off, forcing him to weave his way through it all with care. One sunstone would never be retrieved, which saddened Kal-El greatly, and yet another damaged by Luthor's experimenting with it under the Vanderworth Estate. He couldn't even begin to imagine how much had been lost, how long it would take to regrow and rebuild the data in new sunstones to replace the ones lost. All he knew was that it would take years, and he idly hoped it would not be too late in coming.

The time spent doing this cut down on his time spent helping the people of Earth, and this gnawed at him. He couldn't help it if he felt compelled to save others, it was his calling, it was his purpose. What he gave of himself was who he was and there was no changing it. Even if he could give up all of these gifts to be the same as each of those lives he saved tirelessly, he wouldn't – because to do so would be like tearing off a limb. Besides that, the one time he did give up his powers it had nearly led to the Earth being crushed beneath the heel of General Dru-Zod's New Kryptonian Order nearly seven years ago.

So he had felt a little ashamed as well as somewhat embarrassed when he was asked to attend a ceremony in his honour in Centennial Park to unveil that bronze statue of him standing there with an eagle resting on his outstretched arm. After all, didn't Jor-El once tell him that his deeds had no need of, "thanks or approval"? It had made him feel far less virtuous than the people gave him credit then and there. He felt even more guilty as he heard screams of people all over the world crying out for his aid or for someone to save them, and he had silently prayed that no one had needlessly died when he had been present to receive the accolades. The only reason he'd been there at all was because he knew Lois was covering the ceremony, and he had had a faint hope of being able to talk to her there if there was a quiet, private moment. It never happened, much to his hidden disappointment.

Still, he had collected the sunstone crystals as he sought much needed answers. He used any spare moment he had between his day-to-day work rescuing others and his job as a reporter for the Daily Planet because of the new addition to his routine. Every night now. For as long as he had been searching for the crystals and the answers he hoped were in them, he had been visiting a young boy while he slept in his bed.

His and Lois' child.

Jason. Knowing that Jason knew who he was behind the pinstripe suit and glasses as Clark, Kal-El knew he had to find answers. When his son was old enough, when he discovered the truth of his abilities and lineage, Kal-El would need answers for his boy, as well as answers for himself. His thoughts ran back to a week or so ago, when he had last seen his son at work…

* * *

_Clark led the six-year old over to the break room, which was really a far-too-small corner office of the City and Editorial sections floor of the Planet that had been converted into a kitchenette for people to grab a quick mug of the thick, black, oily substance that Perry called "real coffee." Taking a few quarters from his pocket, he paid for a can of Sprite from the vending machine – as Lois had demanded the soda have no caffeine – and handed it to Jason so that at the very least, his alibi for pulling Jason here to discuss what he had almost blurted out wasn't a lie. The little boy gulped down a large mouthful of the drink as if it were a rare treat, and some of the carbonated drink had obviously tickled his nose as it wrinkled a little._

_Clark wondered how he was going to handle this. Closing the door, he considered what he was going to say to his son, and as he pulled a chair over he became pensive, even nervous. Throughout his silent contemplation, Clark was vaguely aware the boy's gaze never left him, and now the boy's heart rate was increasing. 'He's just as nervous as I am,' Clark mused._

_Clark leaned forward so as to keep at eye-level with Jason. Looking closely now, he could see the same worry reflected in his boy's cerulean eyes, identical to Clark's own - even down to the almost unnoticeable flecks of green that his Ma claimed would show brightest at his happiest. As much to calm himself down as he did to calm down the child before him, he chose to speak in a soft tone, "So…how did you know?"_

_Jason gave a little shrug, tilting his head ever so slightly to the left as he did so. "I saw your picture on TV. I thought…I mean…doesn't everyone know?"_

_The revelation of Jason's having put two and two together took Clark by surprise, though he took care not to let it show on his face. He had suspected that perhaps the little boy had figured it out over the course of time while Lois had gone out for her many clandestine cigarette breaks and had unknowingly left Clark to babysit their son. "No, Jason. No one knows." Clark replied._

_"Well, I figured that Mommy didn't know, 'cause she acts crazy around you when you're Superman, but she hardly talks to you when you are Mr. Clark."_

_Clark's face took on a sad expression. "You're right. Lois doesn't know."_

_Jason's brow became furrowed as he struggled to understand, "Why not? I don't understand. Wouldn't it be easier for you to help people if your friends knew you could help them?"_

_Putting on one of his trademark goofy smiles, Clark answered the boy. "It seems that way, doesn't it? But Jason, this has to stay a secret. If someone found out…" His voice trailed off, not knowing how to finish his thought._

_"What? Would something bad happen?" Jason's question betraying a mix of confusion and alarm._

_Clark decided that he should try to explain, hoping he wasn't sounding condescending to Jason. "I don't know. Maybe. Superman gets a lot of attention, and Clark doesn't. There are times when I'm very glad that I can just be Clark and no one knows who I am."_

_"But_ I _know!"_

_Clark nodded. "I realize that." Squinting his eyes once more, the bespectacled man asked, "How long have you known?"_

_Jason's eyes dropped down towards his tiny feet. "Since right before you saved us from the bald man who wanted to hurt us." The boy's voice dropped to barely a whisper now, indicating that thinking back to the time was not something Jason liked to do._

_"Jason," he said softly, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "That bald man is part of the reason why this has to stay our secret. You can't tell anyone. When I'm Clark, you can't talk to me about Superman. And when I'm Superman, you can't talk to me about Clark. Understand?"_

_Giving a short, understanding nod, Jason's voice grew shaky – an edge of fear touching it. "You're not mad at me, are you?"_

_"No. Why would I be mad?" Clark asked._

_"It sounds like you don't like it when people know."_

_Clark put both hands on his son's shoulders now. He hadn't wanted to scare or upset his little boy, so he tried to remember his chats with his Pa on the farm and how Jonathan had always put him at ease even during their most serious of father-son talks. "Jason, I'm not mad at you. In a way… I'm kind of glad that you know."_

_"Really?" Jason asked, his voice brightening somewhat._

_He smiled, pleased that he'd managed to find the right words. "You just can't tell anyone."_

_Little Jason shook his head. Swallowing hard he replied, "I won't. Will you still come visit me at night?"_

_Clark's eyes widened from the unexpected request. He had been sure that the only times that Jason had been aware of his regular visits as Superman, he had only stopped by outside the house to talk to Lois; once, just after his recovery from hospital after the mess with Luthor and the other, when Richard had been away on assignment in the Orient and Lois had chosen that time to corner him and ask him what had taken place between them. "You know about that, too?" The young boy nodded in answer to this._

_Clark mumbled something about not having as many secrets as he thought he had, but the young man caught this and asked, "Is it a secret that you visit me?" _

_"Yes." Clark noticed belatedly that his voice had taken on a sober and serious edge.._

_"Why?"_

_"Because…" The timbre and cadence of Clark's voice changed into the commanding baritone he used as Superman. "You're very important to me, Jason. I don't want you to get hurt because you're…" At this Clark hesitated. His heart told him that he should let the boy know that he was his father, cried out for it. He knew though that Jason could not learn the truth just yet. His rational mind and logic told him that to do so could drive a wedge between the boy and his parents as well as Richard, the only father the boy had ever known. Instead, he finished the sentence with, "__…__because of me."_

_"Why would anyone want to hurt me?"_

_"Because of our… relationship." Clark hated this, having to lie to his own son to protect him, idly wondering if this is exactly how Martha and Jonathan felt when he was growing up before they told him the truth about his abilities when he was around twelve years old. True, it wasn't a complete lie, but even the little white lies hurt. 'This is so new and hard, Pa.' Clark thought idly, 'I wish there was some way you could help me be as strong as you were when you raised me.'_

_"You mean because I know your secret?"_

_"Something like that." Clark admitted, all the while wishing he could say more__…_

* * *

With his feet now firmly on the rostrum he slipped the shard of sunstone into the tube-like receptacle on the control-panel in front of him. As soon as the crystal was in place, the console was illuminated. The very walls of the Fortress seemed to writhe with dancing lights, slowly cohering into a holographic image of a face, replicated many times around the caped figure of the Man of Steel. 

A deep, rich and precise voice echoed around Kal-El speaking to him once more in familiar words, though not exactly the words that Kal-El had been anticipating.

"My son. You do not remember me. I am Jor-El. I am your father. By now, I will have been dead many thousands of your years. You are the only survivor of the planet Krypton. Embedded in the crystals before you is the total accumulation of all literature and scientific fact from dozens of other worlds, spanning the twenty-eight known galaxies. There are questions to be asked. Here, in this Fortress of Solitude, we shall try to find the answers together. So, my son, Kal-El, speak."

Kal-El was confused, he had expected that perhaps the message would mention something of the length of time since the recording and simulation of his father had been activated, as it had done when Kal-El had used the Fortress to build his ship for the journey to Krypton. Sadly, this was enough to worry Kal-El, for it confirmed his worst fears that some of the data had not survived. He knew that the crystals could not actively recognise Kal-El himself, otherwise Luthor would have been unable to enter and steal the sunstones from the Fortress in his absence, but between the destruction of the original control panel and the loss of two of the last sunstone crystals meant that the damage was indeed extensive.

It caused him concern now that perhaps speaking to the recordings of both of his birth parents would only bring him about in circles. On one level, he had already lost enough with Lois finding comfort and love in the arms of another man, his foster mother moving on and thinking about maybe leaving the farm to live with Ben Hubbard in Montana, and now the confusion over his place in his son's life as well as the nature of his existence. Kal-El wanted to be able to help his boy and give him answers now, and clearly the damage to the sunstones was enough that he may never have the answers. But he had to try.

"Father, I would like to have a family of my own, I want to know if there is any way at all that this might be possible."

"Kal-El, I can understand the desire you express with your question. I understand it because I have felt it personally. The longing for a family – for a child of your own. It is only natural for you to feel such things. On Krypton, your desires would be encouraged, for we value children and recognize the importance of continuing the family line.

"However, you are not on Krypton. You are surrounded by beings that are genetically inferior to you. That which you ask – to have a family of your own – is an impossibility."

"You will never have a child of your own," Jor-El continued. "You will never have a family of your own. Furthermore, were you to join your life with that of a mere mortal – you would be going against everything I have taught you and would place yourself in a potentially very dangerous position. I urge you, Kal-El, to avoid such attachments."

The words stung, they had been the same ones used long ago when Kal-El had asked if it were possible and the response was still the same.

Deciding that it was futile to argue with the recording, for clearly it had lost its ability to remember and learn due to the lack of sunstones at Kal-El's disposal, he continued. "Father, If I were to have a child, what would become of him?"

"In choosing to send you to Earth, your mother and I both knew what impact this would have on your life. We understood that we were sending you to a world where you would never be able to live the life of an ordinary man. We knew that it would be difficult for you to accept many of the facts of your nature, including this one. It pains me to know you suffer because of this. But Kal-El, it is for the best.

"Consider, if you will, the difficulties that would be inherent in such a child. Biologically, the child's body would be exposed to the bombardment of what his human DNA would interpret as foreign cells. Likewise, his Kryptonian DNA would try to dominate those aspects that were more human. Theoretically, the basic genetic make-up of such a child would be in constant turmoil, human and Kryptonian battling for control of a body in which they were never meant to coexist. The abnormalities that would be present in the body would be devastating and potentially dangerous. I shudder to think of the challenges and difficulties that would face such a child. Be thankful that your own biology makes such unbearable ideas impossible."

But it had not been impossible, Jason was proof positive of this. Pondering this carefully, Kal-El came to some conclusions. First was that the boy's frail health as a child may have been a symptom of this, and perhaps the condition could worsen over time. The thought didn't sit with him well and he prayed that this would not happen. The other conclusion would be that the boy would probably exhibit at least some of his own abilities either as intense as his own, or perhaps lesser. It would take a while for him to discover what lay ahead.

"I sense your distress over this matter, my son.

"You must remember you were sent here because you _look_ like one of them – but you are _not_ one of them. Our culture survives with you and the hope we had for the future can be shared with the people of Earth by you: the last son of Krypton. All that I have, all that I feel, all this and more... I bequeath you, my son. This is all I can send you, Kal-El. But remember that no matter how isolated this leaves you, you are not alone. You will never be alone."

Alone. Despite all of his father's good intentions and promises, that is exactly how Kal-El felt at this precise moment. He could not blame the recording though, for unlike the true and long-dead Jor-El it was not sentient. As sophisticated as the simulation of Jor-El was, ultimately, the damaged program was incapable of learning and accepting new information as it was. The result was that all that was left of his father and mother were the resounding echoes of voices long dead.

Yet another memory to taint the sanctity of this second home.

Still, he had a lot of work to do, holding back the tears that threatened to come bidding, he asked, "Father, I need to know how to add to the records of Krypton's history and to adapt the sunstones in order to add new records of the sciences. How can this be accomplished?"

Jor-El's visage wavered and faded away. In its place was a different recording, this time of a woman with long, curly brown hair cascading down the sides of her face. Kal-El recognised this to be his mother. After a short pause, with two new sections of the control panel rising from their hidden locations either side of Kal-El.

"Kal-El, my son. As keeper of the archives of Krypton, it falls to me to explain this task you wish to undertake.

"To your left is the main console used to reprogram the archives and reconstruct them. For this you will need to place the master crystal within the receptacle to use it. The panel on your right allows you to place a blank sunstone crystal in it to program it as you need it."

The hologram paused for an almost imperceptible instant as the recording changed.

"This console can be used to empower or reformat a crystal to form whatever you choose from our technology, such as a craft similar to what carried you here to Earth. And it can be used to alter a crystal's purpose."

Kal-El knew this well. As his mother had been a prominent astronaut, it had been her expertise that Jor-El had used to construct the ark which had carried him to Smallville. Provided with power and water, the crystals were infinitely self replicating using whatever blueprints and computational nodes were within them. Unfortunately, with the master crystal having disappeared when Kal-El had sealed the Fortress, his only choice now would be to use the crystals that made up the craft he had used to return to Krypton and Earth to do this. It would be a painstaking task, but one he was willing to put himself through for his boy.

"Tell me what I need to know..."

* * *


End file.
